


The Bald Knight Rises

by Lycaste



Category: Batman (Movies - Nolan), Batman - All Media Types, Dark Knight Rises (2012)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Bank Robbery, Crack, F/M, Rescue, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-22
Updated: 2013-08-22
Packaged: 2017-12-24 08:52:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,613
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/938019
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lycaste/pseuds/Lycaste
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bane races to free his love Talia after a bank robbery gone bad leads to her arrest. Making matters worse is her distant father Ra's al Ghul, the general incompetence of his henchmen, that emo nuisance Batman, and the fact that no one can understand what he's saying.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Originally published on LJ in November, 2012

**Title:** The Bald Knight Rises  
 **Author(s):** lilac28  
 **Pairing(s)/Character(s):** Bane/Talia  
 **Summary:** Bane races to free his love Talia after a bank robbery gone bad leads to her arrest. Making matters worse is her distant father Ra's al Ghul, the general incompetence of his henchmen, that emo nuisance Batman, and the fact that no one can understand what he's saying.  
 **Rating:** R  
 **Warning(s):** Mutilation, delicious violence, mentions of sex, and unapologetic crackiness  
 **Word Count:** ~3k  
 **Notes** AU where Ra's al Ghul still lives, Bane was never exiled, and Batman never retired.

_The Pit, then...._

An unfortunate few know the hysterical terror of being chased by an angry mob. One hears the deafening roar rolling up behind them, threatening to crush them through sheer force of furious sound alone. Sometimes there's an element of righteousness about it. The toppling of an evil dictator, the rallying cries of a people finally free. Yet deserved or not, be it king or peasant, the naked horror of the experience is incomparable.

As he ran towards the Pit's only shaft of light, Bane became one of the unfortunate few to know the terror of being chased by an angry, _horny_ mob. His mind had already shut down, basic decision making reduced to a singular focus. Get her to the mouth of the Pit. Maybe she could save herself.

Bane propelled himself towards the light, lungs burning so hot it hurt to gasp for more air. He was a dead man. He would not survive this.

Just once chance. One chance to get her out and do one thing that mattered in his wasted life.

She landed hard on the bottom climbing rock, jarred by the impact of Bane's desperate throw. No time for the rope. If she fell, it would be better to just die anyway.

"GO!"

She trembled, wild eyed and terrified.

"Go! Go! Go!" Bane screamed. Men were pouring in from the tunnel. "Rise!"

She started to climb, all the strength and agility he had trained into her coming to her aid. Bane watched her jump to the next rock, rising higher above the growing crowd. She could make it.

With his dying breath, he would tell himself that she made it.

Talia didn't turn around. Her tiny, fading voice the last sound he could make out before it was all a tumultuous clamor.

"I'll come back for you."

Bane punched the first man to reach him, then the second. He spared one last glance at the sky, watching her successfully climb up another level.

"Goodbye."

And the crowd swallowed him.

 

 

 

_Gotham City, now...._

 

"He's Bruce Wayne. He has to be Bruce Wayne."

"What makes you so sure?"

League of Shadows captains Talia al Ghul and Bane lay stretched out next to each other on a worn mattress deep in the heart of Gotham's underground. Nestled in their secret hideout amidst the endless tunnels and sewers just below the crust of the city, they engaged in their nightly ritual of bonding, speculation, and philosophizing. A habit left over from years together in the Pit, when there wasn't much to do but work out and talk.

Topics of these musing sessions were often multi faceted and complex, from the true state of democracy in America to the far reaching advantages of micro credit to what limits personal freedoms should or should not have. Yet every so often the theme turned to something resembling actual gossip, such as whether or not Barsad, one of Bane's top lieutenants (and one of the few people Bane could actually trust to not fuck up a job), was gay.

Tonight's topic was one hotly debated in Gotham, who is the Batman?

"It's not that difficult, my dear. Simply a matter of elimination." Bane started ticking the reasons off on his large fingers. "First, he's the only one in Gotham both young enough to take a nightly beating, but also rich enough to have all those fancy toys."

"There are many rich people in Gotham."

"Yes, but not absurdly wealthy like him. Have you seen the Tumbler that Batman drives? Why, it must cost four thousand dollars a week to refuel!"

"Okay, what else?"

"What else? Am I the only one who notices that the lower half of his face is completely exposed!? You can see he is no doubt a handsome man, with a strong chin and pouty woman's lips. Look at any Gotham gossip magazine. It's Bruce Wayne! I don't understand how the entire city doesn't see this!"

Talia rarely laughed or giggled, although at times she gifted him with a wry smile. One that never failed to make his heart thunder. Her lips cracked into such as a smile and she draped herself across his chest and said, "So what if it is Bruce Wayne? What do we do about it?"

"An excellent question. Something adequately painful but deliciously humiliating. The Batman has become quite a nuisance lately."

And he really had. Batman had arrived in time to foil three out of the five most recent League of Shadows heists. With his sophisticated weaponry and intelligence above that of a rock, he already had an advantage over most of Bane's low-level foot soldiers.

It was disgusting, someone on the fringes with all that power trying to maintain a vile status quo. The League of Shadows existed to restore balance, to smooth out those areas of devastating human corruption. Revolutions had to be financed somehow, and Batman's actions had been thwarting their main source of quick and easy funding. Bank robbery and jewelry heists.

"And if he shows up tomorrow?"

"If he shows up," Bane said, "I'll crush him under my boot like the amateur he is." Despite the body armor and eerily familiar fighting style, Bane was confident he could kick Batman's ass.

"If that happens, my love, show him no mercy. We can't have him interfering in our plans."

The plan was to steal what the media were calling the Gotham Diamond, currently residing in a vault in the city's most secure bank. It was to go to auction in a few days, where some greedy bastard would waste a fortune trying to impress his elite friends. If the League of Shadows had their way, it would be split and on the black market before it was ever sold.

It had taken months of precise organization to develop the heist. Bane's men had information on guards, security, pass codes, weapons, and decoys. The diamond had come to Gotham to be sold through former construction baron turned diamond-mining cocksucker John Daggett.

Daggett was under the impression that Bane and the League of Shadows worked for him, a common misconception where money was involved. Bane eagerly waited for the fast-approaching day when they no longer needed Daggett, and he could snap the businessman's neck like a twig. He'd give Daggett his best "reckoning" speech before he did it. That was always fun.

Talia's team would get inside. Bane's team would take care of police, private security, and any appearances by the Caped Crusader. They would pick up Talia's group, bring the diamond to the head of the League of Shadows, and finally get the hell out of Gotham. Talia was obviously ready for more sunshine and less sewer, and Bane was more than happy to grant her everything she wanted.

Besides, the homeless drifters that they recruited for their growing army were far weirder in Gotham than in other cities. Some of them creeped even Bane out.

"Bane," Talia said. "You will be careful, won't you? Batman is more powerful than he appears."

Her fingers left hot trails on his exposed cheek. Everything about Talia for him was about feeling something. He could make out the press of her soft hands on his numb face, her rich voice a panacea against a life filled with screaming agony. With her he was alive, a powerful and pulsing creature of the darkness. She was the only one who understood him, both figuratively and literally, as she was also the only person who never fucking asked him to repeat himself because they couldn't make out what he said.

They had been inseparable ever since she rescued him from the Pit, and hopefully would be until the day he drew his last medicinal-tasting breath.

Yet for the last few months something had been...off. Talia had seemed different ever since they had come to Gotham, wanting to be intimate in a different way. She would jump between soft and overly loving to moody and withdrawn. Bane was no stranger to fights with stubborn Talia al Ghul, but lately she could get angry with him for no reason and snapped at him at all the wrong times. At first he thought the lack of light in the sewers was wreaking havoc with her brain and body chemistry, but now he was beginning to suspect that she wanted something. Something he wasn't giving her.

Her lips seemed to linger on his face longer than usual, deft fingers slipping around the edges of the mask as if she wanted him to take it off for a kiss. A very, very bad and disgusting (for her) idea as far as Bane was concerned. One that planted within him the seed of a growing anxiety.

She acted a woman unsatisfied, and from pulp to marrow Bane wanted to see her content.

"Bane," Talia said, snapping him out of his reverie, "I'll bet you can't pin me in under thirty seconds."

No sooner had the words left her lips and she was laying face first on the pillow, an arm bent behind her while Bane rested on her back. He kept the majority of his weight off her, just enough to immobilize her.

Talia emitted an undignified squeal. "Wait! I wasn't ready. We never said go!"

"Do you yield?"

"Never!"

"Is that so?" Bane said in his odd mechanical drawl that he knew titillated her to know end. "Well, my dear.."

He unzipped his fly and pulled out his stiff cock with all the gravity of a judge pounding a gavel. "Once you've sucked my cock and given me a rim job, then you have my permission to come!"

 

 

 

 

For many of the poor and broken-spirited denizens of Gotham, a new day rarely held any promise. For Bane, the rising of the morning sun brought with it a lifetime of new possibilities. The acquisition of the diamond would change everything. The League of Shadows would be well funded for years. Governments would fall; tiny nurtured revolutions would grow into fierce change. Their team would be heroes.

And then they could get the fuck out of Gotham City, whose rotten stench had started to permeate even Bane's destroyed olfactory system.

The pre-heist meeting was brief, a simple run down of the day to come. Talia didn't even look at him or say anything when they parted ways, save for a quick squeeze of his arm. Affection could come later, for now focus and duty came first.

Talia's team left first, slipping into the underground tunnels that led beneath the bank. They had taken months to dig, and would be detonated seconds after the heist was complete.

The schedule was set. Wheels in motion. Bane stood at the entrance of their hideout with Barsad at his side, waiting for the procession of Humvees to arrive that would bring them to the bank. They were scheduled to reach the entrance of the bank just as Talia's group entered the vault, providing both cover fire against any outside security forces and a means of escape.

The only real outside security force that Bane was concerned with was the Batman.

Barsad seemed to read his mind. "We'll be ready for him, sir."

"For whom?"

"Batman, sir. We're ready if he shows up from the darkness."

Bane scoffed. "The Batman. He thinks darkness is his ally. But he merely adopted the dark. I was born in it, molded by it. I didn't see the light until I was already a man, and by then it was nothing to me but BLINDING!"

Although Barsad's facial expressions usually fell somewhere between seriously attentive to mildly sly, he was now looking at Bane with outright impressed bewilderment.

"Sir, that was....that was awesome!"

"Oh, really? Do you think so? I just came up with that right now."

"Well it was really good. Very powerful and scary."

"Excellent. Write that down, Barsad. I may want to repeat that one again."

Barsad was already scratching in the tiny pocket notebook that he kept on his person. Writing down Bane's nuggets of misanthropic wisdom was just another job for the top lieutenant.

"Perhaps I'll try to-"

Bane stopped talking, jaw dropped to the ground in shock as he saw the caravan approaching. What was supposed to be a procession of five massive Humvees was actually four tiny Smart cars. The micro vehicles that got over 80 miles to the gallon, could be parked anywhere, and could only seat 2 people.

Bane exhaled long and angry; usually indicative that there would be open positions in his organization soon.

"What...what the _fuck_ is that!?!?"

"Sir," one of the men said, "it's...it's what you asked for. The transportation department said you wanted Smart cars."

"Smart cars!?" Bane was seething. "I said Hummers! Why would I want such powerless vehicles for a mission? How are we supposed to fight off an army of police in these!?!?"

It did look ridiculous. One of the men was holding a missile launcher so long that both ends stuck out the side windows. The others had their guns squeezed in and pointing every which way in an attempt to make room for their actual bodies. It was like a painfully conspicuous army that really cared about their carbon footprint.

"Sir, I....I don't know. This is what they said you requested."

Fortunately for the man, his boss' forever strategizing mind kicked in and spared him from being punched into the pavement. Bane knew that flying into a rage over this would just waste more time. They needed to be there to extract Talia's team.

"The consequences for this shall be doled out later. Let us waste no more time."

Bane approached the lead car and, not realizing the strength of his fury, yanked the door right off its hinges with one pull. He swore loudly as he clambered into the car, banging his knees on the steering wheel in the process.

"Um, sir," Barsad said. "Do you want me to drive? I think I can fit."

Bane ignored him, battling to get himself seated properly in the tiny car. His head hit the ceiling; his knees wouldn't fit under the steering wheel. Even if he moved one knee to stick out of the now door-less side of the car, he still didn't have enough room to properly maneuver the wheel.

After a few minutes of unmanly struggling, he punched the steering wheel and just said, "Barsad, why don't you drive."

"Good idea, sir."

Barsad hopped in the driver's side as Bane took the passenger seat, knees bunched up to his chest. They were now ten minutes late.

 

 

 

To Barsad's credit, he flew across Gotham as though the Smart car was a Porsche. Bane said nothing during the trip, a bad sign for the continued respiration of his men in the future.

They arrived at the bank fifteen minutes past the deadline. A dim alarm was going off inside, and they could make out a few bodies of security guards and civilians both outside the bank and in the lobby.

Bane launched himself out of the car in a graceless stumble. He motioned towards the bank. They weren't too late. So single minded was his focus that he was completely off guard when a cloaked figure slammed into him like a freight train.

The Batman.

"Go go!" Bane screamed at his men. "I'll take care of this."

The men scattered, attempting to make their way into the bank as Bane punched Batman with everything he had. Batman grabbed his coat, and they went down in a jumble of punches and head butts. They grappled viciously, Bane fueled by his growing rage and desperation.

Batman managed to expertly block a punch and kick him in the face, stepping back to put some distance between them. He started throwing things; tiny shurikens and smoke bombs that Bane batted away like flies.

Bane ruminated as they circled each other. Something wasn't right. Batman could block too many punches, escape too many kicks. And the little gadgets, theatricality and deception. The Bat was more than he seemed. He was trained somewhere. Somewhere.....similar.

Batman feinted right and then spun around to give his opponent a punch to the cheek that would have floored most men, but Bane merely stumbled. Years of surfing an ocean of pain had inured him to slight nuisances such as getting punched in the face.

"You fight like a younger man, with nothing held back. Admirable but mistaken."

And mistaken Batman was, for on his next ferocious punch his target used their momentum to spin them both around and land his elbow into Batman's throat. He fell gasping, too disoriented to fight off the next series of blows.

Bane seized his chance, striking his enemy again and again until the mask cracked and he was spitting blood. When Batman was a weak, bloody heap on the ground, Bane grabbed him by the armor.

"We both know that now I have to kill you. You'll just have to imagine the fire!"

He hoisted Batman above his head and dropped him onto his knee with a sickening crack, leaving the Caped Crusader a wet, spasming mess on the ground. He ran into the bank as police sirens started blaring in the distance.

 

 

 

Bane arrived in the vault corridor to find his men trying to break a large, translucent barrier wall that cut through the hallway. It was clear like glass, but judging how it seemed to resist kicks and bullets it must have been made of something much stronger.

Talia stood on the other side. Alone. Scared.

His heart stopped. He had never seen her fearful on a mission.

"Bane," Talia screamed when she saw him. "Bane!"

"What is this?" Bane punched the glass-like wall. "This security measure was not in the plans!"

Talia was frantic. "Nothing....nothing was like the plans. Our intelligence was wrong. Security is not what we thought. And Bane...the diamond isn't here."

"It's....what?"

"It's not here! It's not here! I don't know if we were set up...or...or...I don't know! Security went off as soon as we got here. Half my team is dead. There's no diamond!"

Sirens blared closer.

"Sir, the police are coming."

Bane ignored the warnings of his men. "The mission is a failure. We'll get you out of here. What have you tried on this thing? Blades, bullets, brute force? Where are the explosives?"

"Sir, we only brought small ones and they haven't done anything."

"Well light them off all at once!" Panic rising. Sirens screaming. Talia shook her head, crushed.

"Bane. Bane you have to go. It won't help to have you all captured."

"Quiet, woman. I'm trying to think of a way out of this."

"GO!"

She trembled, wild eyed and terrified.

"Go! Go! Go!" Talia screamed. They could hear cars pulling up in front of the bank. "Run!"

His men were pulling on him, trying to drag him away from Talia.

"No!"

"Bane," Barsad said. "She's right. We have to go! We can't rescue her if we're all in jail."

He couldn't believe it. Couldn't believe that he was actually leaving her, watching the tears run down her face as the men pulled him away. Rescue. That's right, they had to go. But they could still rescue her. In many ways, a police station rescue would be easier than a bank rescue. Inferior technology, dumber cops. She would be ok. She would be ok. He could still rescue her.

Until he stopped breathing, he would attempt to get her back.

Talia pressed her forehead to the barrier as she watched him go. His giant, booming voice the last sound she could make out before the other barrier to her back opened and police started streaming in.

"I'll come back for you."

Talia punched the first man to reach her, then the second. She spared one last glance at exit, watching Bane successfully slip into the lobby.

"Goodbye."

She was thrown to the ground and handcuffed, swallowed by a crowd of police.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally published on LJ in November, 2012.

Upon returning to the underground hideout, Bane's first action was to find the hapless man responsible for mission transportation. He stomped through the tunnels radiating fury, knocking men out of his way as though they were bowling pins. His heavy footfalls inspired fear, yet true terror rattled and screamed inside his own head. Talia captured. Talia without his protection. A beautiful woman in the den of incompetent brutes. His throat tightened at the thought, a quiet pulse-quickening anxiety diffused from his chest out to his elbows and knees. 

Bane walked faster.

The transportation man, a skinny little wisp of a thing with a forgettable name, turned a visible shade of moldy green at Bane's thundering approach.

"Sir, I-"

He barely had a word out before a massive hand was wrapped around his throat, lifting him off the ground as he wriggled and gasped for air.

"Tell me, am I a small man?"

Bane loosened his grip on the man's neck, allowing him to suck in a tiny breath before he squeaked out, "What?"

"AM I A SMALL MAN!?!" 

The henchman continued to gasp. "No...no, sir."

"Then why did you procure such a small vehicle!? I asked for a Hummer."

"I'm sorry, sir. I.....I thought you said Smart Car."

Bane felt sick. Talia in jail because of a stupid misunderstanding. A steely calm settled over him as he bore into the man's eyes and asked, "Why? Why would you possibly think I would want a car that I can barely fit into? How could you have made such a mistake?"

"I....you.....you're a little hard to understand sometimes, sir."

Infuriated, Bane snapped his wrist to crack the man's neck in his hand. A twig yielding to the force of a hurricane. He turned and saw that Barsad had caught up to him and was standing ready for new orders.

"Am I hard to understand?" His tone indicated that the question had only one correct answer.

Barsad didn't even blink. "Of course not, sir."

Bane sniffed haughtily, which through the mask sounded like a mechanized chortle. "I thought not. Come."

They made their way through the tunnels, ignoring the scurrying men rushing to remove the dead body.

 

Bane's second move was to seek out Talia's father, League of Shadows power player and generally shitty parent Ra's al Ghul. The leader had set up shop in a nondescript little office building near the docks, operating under the name of Henri Ducard. From there he directed all major actions of the League of Shadows, everything from the redistribution of stolen monies to deciding which political movements to support or undermine. He couldn't be bothered to direct smaller activities, such as making it to his daughter's 30th birthday party or saving her as an infant condemned to live in a hellhole prison.

Bane had never liked Ra's al Ghul. From the moment he cracked his swollen eyelids open after being rescued from the Pit to find the man hovering over him, he had never liked him. The feeling was obviously mutual from the start, as al Ghul had glared down at him in disapproval while adjusting the strange new metal contraption on his face. 

The second rate ninja had agreed to take him in and train him, an act that he never failed to hold over Bane's head. As though he had done it as a true humanitarian effort, rather than to assuage his own guilt and to make Talia happy. It was soon evident that he had not expected Bane to learn so quickly, become so powerful, rise to such a galvanizing force among the League of Shadows. By then it was too late. Talia sought him out as her lover the second she was old enough, and Bane and Ra’s al Ghul were stuck in a forever state of simmering distrust and barely disguised repulsion reserved only for in-laws.

Through the years they clashed over everything, with Bane always feeling like al Ghul was wasting time pussyfooting in the shadows, and al Ghul taking the position that the masked man's methods were far too extreme and brutal. He had almost exiled Bane on three different occasions, each one fizzling out when confronted with Talia's furious devastation and the disturbing loyalty of Bane's men. 

These incidents prompted his most faithful lieutenants to rename their supreme leader "Ra's al Tool", a hilarious nickname that Bane never encouraged, but never exactly discouraged either.

Walking into al Ghul's office, Bane knew that this whole mess was going to be deemed completely his fault. He counseled himself to remain calm. All he cared about was saving Talia, and his almost father in law had more resources than anyone. He would groom the man's ridiculously affected goatee if he had to.

"Bane," Ra’s al Ghul acknowledged him without looking up from his computer screen. "I hear the mission was not successful." The pompous prick somehow always received information at the speed of light.

"No, sir." Bane only trotted out the "sir" when he really wanted something.

"I see. And Talia?"

He of course already knew what happened to Talia, he just wanted to hear Bane say it. "She was arrested, sir."

Al Ghul slowly moved his eyes from the computer screen and folded his hands. "What was that? I couldn't quite make that out."

"I said she was arrested."

How did this happen?"

"There was," Bane paused, "a mix-up with the transportation. That and the arrival of Batman threw off the timing and led to the events of Talia's arrest." The words felt like nauseating spikes tumbling out of his mouth.

"Mmm." Al Ghul turned back to his computer.

"I am formulating a plan to rescue her."

"Of course you are. I would expect nothing less from you."

"I need supplies."

"Such as?"

Bane marched to the desk and placed his hands on the edge while he stared the other man straight in the eye. "Money. More men. Cars. No, make that tanks. I need at 3 tanks, or at the very least Humvees. I need more firepower. Twenty rocket launchers and four crates of machine guns. I want access to every man who works for us in the Gotham police department. I'll also need a small fleet of motorcycles, a helicopter, every computer expert in the League of Shadows, and a demolitions expert. Oh, and I'll need a chemical weapon. Anthrax, nerve gas, whatever. Also flame throwers and-"

"Bane," al Ghul cut him off. "She's stuck in the American legal system, not a modern-day Bastille. We can probably secure her freedom with money and the proper documents."

"Are you crazy? Time is of the essence!"

"I don't necessarily disagree, but I can't risk the amount of exposure it would bring to get you all these things. Such extremism isn't necessary."

"It is when it's Talia. Or do you disagree about that?"

Ra’s al Ghul displayed no reaction, possibly giving Bane leeway due to his feelings for Talia. Possibly because paying attention to Bane wasn't his specialty.

"I can have fifty thousand dollars wired into a dummy account for you. I can also provide you with twenty extra League of Shadows members and some information."

"But-"

"Here," he continued, scribbling on a piece of paper, "is the name of a contact we have inside the Gotham police force. He's been feeding us valuable information over the past few months, and has no love for Gotham's corrupt ruling class."

He handed Bane a piece of paper with the name "John Blake" written on it.

"And this," al Ghul tore off another piece of paper with a name and address on it, "is the name of someone who can help you with a chemical weapon. He's a little strange, but he's a trustworthy associate. Now if you'll excuse me, I must prepare to catch a plane."

Bane's eyes widened. "You're leaving!?"

"Yes. The work of the League of Shadows can't stop for personal interests."

Bane couldn't believe it, even though it shouldn't have been surprising. Talia's father had a penchant for disappearing whenever she needed him most. From the moment she drew her first breath, Bane had been there to pick up the pieces that Ra’s al Ghul left behind. It was maddening. What was even more maddening was that despite all her anger, Talia was clearly hurt every time her father abandoned her. 

He could never tell her of this moment. The hurt in her eyes would be too great. Instead he just repeated, "You're leaving!? But Talia needs help. Don't you want to hear my plan?"

"Bane," al Ghul began in the same infuriatingly calm tone one would use when talking to a wayward six year old. "Do you know why I keep you around?"

_Because I produce the results you can't?_ Bane didn't articulate his thoughts; the robotic rasp of the respirator his only sound.

Ra’s al Ghul continued, "Because you are Talia's protector, and you're exceedingly good at it. I know you're fully qualified to get her out of this with what I've given you. It would be in your best interests not to disappoint me."

As if al Ghul hadn't disappointed Talia her entire life.

"Oh, you'll need transportation too. Take this." He tossed Bane a set of car keys, no doubt to the fancy red sports car that he drove around in as part of his Henri Ducard cover. For someone who claimed to be a world-stabilizing ninja beyond corruption and material things, he certainly loved that sports car. "I think you can fit into it," he added, implying that somehow he had heard of Bane's predicament with the tiny car during the mission.

He was smiling. He actually had a little grin on his face over the incident that played a role in Talia's arrest. Bane wanted to smash his teeth in.

"And Bane," al Ghul called as the hulking man made his way to the door, "are you aware it's August? Lose the heavy jacket and military wear before you pass out!"

 

Barsad was waiting for him at the entrance of the office building, curiosity emanating from his every pore despite his ramrod straight posture. "Did you get what you wanted, sir?"

"Not exactly." Bane kept his tone easy and confident. He tried to never let the men know when he was frustrated or disappointed with Ra’s al Ghul. "Yet it will be sufficient to accomplish the task. He authorized fifty thousand and twenty of his men."

Barsad visibly winced. The rest of the League of Shadows were looked down upon by Bane's men as unreliable fools and all around pussies. Although most of them fought very well, Bane's little faction wanted nothing to do with them. Thus was the fanatic loyalty that the masked leader inspired.

"He also gave me the name of a chemical weapons expert and that of a man inside the Gotham police department. Here." He handed Barsad the piece of paper. "His name is John Blake. Have him brought to me after tonight's briefing."

Barsad took the paper and followed Bane, seeming puzzled when he walked to Ra’s al Ghul's blazing red sports car rather than the entrance to the sewers. "We're taking this car, sir?"

"Yes. Al Ghul gave it to me to use, an instrument of ruling class autocracy is an apparent substitute for his presence on our rescue mission." He couldn't hide the disgust in his voice; hopefully the mask modulated it a bit.

"He's not coming with us?!?" 

"No. Get in."

"But she's his daughter!"

"I am painfully aware of that, little brother." Bane started the car, looked in the rearview mirror, and backed up onto the curb and into a trashcan behind them. He then pulled forward, slammed the shift into reverse, and backed into the trashcan again. The scattering of refuse across the sidewalk in front of Ducard Industries did nothing to alleviate his mood.

"Sir," Barsad asked, ignoring Bane's vengeful driving, "if I may ask, what exactly is the plan?"

"The plan is to create massive chaos in downtown Gotham, thus distracting a majority of the police force while a smaller, elite group of us breaks Talia out of wherever she is being held. This John Blake should be able to tell us her location."

"Your plan for massive chaos, sir?"

"We will detonate a chemical weapon in the middle of tomorrow's protest. Ra’s al Ghul's men will come in useful for that. We are going to secure such a weapon right now."

"Tomorrow's....protest, sir? You mean the gathering of the Occupy Gotham movement?"

"Of course!" Bane answered in that singsong voice that meant he was planning on fucking up lots and lots of people.

"Forgive me, sir, but I thought you supported the spirit behind the Occupy movement?"

"I do! This is merely a means to an end. Talia's rescue is of paramount importance."

Barsad looked a little uncomfortable, shifting in his seat with the knowledge of something he obviously didn't want to mention, but knew that he should. "Bane, um, do you know who is the silent sponsor of the Occupy movement in Gotham? The person who secretly organized tomorrow's protest?"

"Yes I do!" Bane's mangled smile couldn't be seen behind the mask. "Occupy Gotham is funded by Ra’s al Ghul."

He ground the hubcaps of the car against the curb before speeding towards their next destination without another word.

 

Bane parked the ostentatious car in front of the building where the chemical expert allegedly worked, which to his surprise was a small office instead of the dingy warehouse he had expected. He instructed Barsad to wait while he conducted his business, pounding through the front door like a battering ram. He gave no thought to how inconspicuous he looked, his head swimming with the details of his rescue plan. It was quickly congealing in his mind, every step and possible outcome laid out before him like a mental roadmap.

His razor sharp ability to strategize was, he suspected, another reason that Ra’s al Ghul kept him around. He also suspected that the leader of the League of Shadows would rather be condemned to the Pit himself than admit to it.

Lost in thought, Bane finally stopped in front of a door marked "Jonathan Crane, Psy.D.". He barged in without knocking.

He was greeted with the sight of a small, bespectacled man with delicate features and lovely eyes. The office was that befitting of a psychiatrist, complete with a long couch and infinite diplomas on the wall. This cannot be right.

There were no guns, no vials of chemicals or crates of frightening metallic containers. The man was in a tailored suit with clean hair, devoid of any tattoos or scars. It made no sense. Perhaps Ra’s al Ghul had tricked him.

The man calmly looked up from his papers and folder his hands. "You must be Bane. Our mutual associate told me that you would be coming. Please, sit." He indicated to the long psychiatrist couch.

Bane took a seat on the edge of the couch, disliking how low to the ground it was. Even with his great stature, the act of sitting on it caused him to have to look up into the other man's eyes. A subtle power move. Bane was unimpressed.

"My name is Doctor Jonathan Crane. I hear you have need of certain services I offer."

"Yes." Bane tried to hide his discomfort. He hated shrinks. "My group is in the market for a rare product."

"Indeed. I'll have you know I only supply one product, yet it should be more than adequate for your needs."

"I see." Bane eyed him closer. Were those pieces of straw stuck on his shoulders?

Crane was obviously scrutinizing him back; his calm features a marked contrast to the mad delight in his eyes. "I like your mask."

"Oh?"

"Yes. What a simple yet functional design." He stared at Bane harder with a dreamy look on his face, appearing as if he had been dipping into his own products. "I love a design that inspires fear while establishing an enigma."

"It serves its purpose."

"I'm sure it serves many purposes. Without it you're no doubt a large, intimidating man. With it you're transformed into a fear archetype. An external tormentor. The mind creates a gallery of horrors behind the mask, made worse by your inscrutability."

Bane was surprised. He wasn't used to having insightful conversations with anyone beyond Talia and occasionally Barsad. "It is an effective symbol. No one cared who I was until I put on the mask."

"I know exactly what you mean! Would you like to see my mask?"

"What?"

"I have a mask too. Let me put it on." He reached into his desk drawer and, with the exaggerated flourish of a magician, pulled out what appeared to be a simple burlap sack that looked like it was stitched together by a blind grandmother missing most of her fingers. Crane pulled it over his face, revealing tiny eyeholes and a ragged mouth. "Not scared? True fear originates in the mind, as you know. Would you like to explore it?"

Without waiting for an answer, he lifted his arm and sprayed something into Bane's face from a hidden contraption in his sleeve. 

Bane blinked, taken aback. The compound stung his eyes. Crane was practically bouncing in his seat. "Do you see now?"

And sitting there in a psychiatrist's office with a man who looked like he just escaped from a loony bin housed in a horse stable, Bane wondered if he could slowly poison Ra’s al Ghul without anyone knowing.

"Well?"

"Well what?" The scent of the spray began to permeate the mask. It smelled sweet, like flowers.

"Well aren't.....aren't you afraid yet? Don't you feel anything?" Crane removed his mask, genuinely disappointed. "Doesn't your mask let in outside air? This is my finest fear toxin!" 

"Fear toxin?" Bane lunged across the table and grabbed the doctor's hair. "You utter fool! I've been breathing in aerosolized narcotics for over a decade. Mere drugs don't work on me anymore. I am a being made of pain. I AM fear!"

Crane twisted in his grasp, the pressure of the meaty fist in his hair bringing tears to his eyes. "And yet you afraid! Afraid to lose the only thing that matters to you."

Bane brought the doctor's face closer to his own; beyond irritated that Ra’s al Ghul must have discussed his personal life. "And what do you know of this? Do you think me a weak man?"

"No," Crane gasped. "I think you're a complex man! A violent criminal who risked his life to protect something innocent. A murderer with a desire for social justice. A man who sees himself as an agent of the greater good, yet executes brutality to bring that good about. Someone who deals in symbols, pain, and love all at once." 

His voice was hypnotic, the unsettling accuracy of his observations both soothing and disturbing. Bane loosened his grasp.

"Tell me, Bane. Why did you protect a young girl in Hell?"

"It was...." Bane let go of Crane's hair and sat back down on the couch. "It was the only option. She did not deserve to be there. She was an oppressed victim of the terror of the ruling class."

"Surely you had something to gain beyond that. You were mangled for life. Did she remind you of someone? Did you want her as your property? Was it for sex?"

"Of course not! She was just a child."

"And yet she grew to love you anyway."

"Yes." Bane's heart constricted. "She grew to love me anyway." 

Talia. His bold, daring, beautiful love. Talia forever scaling walls and escaping impossible situations. His shadow in plain sight. The girl who danced around his feet while others cowered at his presence, who held his head in her lap while he convulsed from a crashing sea of pain. He needed her more than he needed the mask. _My God, if something happens to her....._

Crane was fully composed again, save for the bits of straw now littered in his hair. He straightened his glasses and walked around the desk with a pad of paper and pen in his hand. "Why don't you tell me about it?"

"Doctor, I don't have time for-"

"You'll be most effective if you see clearly on this matter." He pulled up another chair to sit next to Bane.

Dr. Jonathan Crane, it turned out, was a really good psychiatrist. Before Bane could stop himself, he was lying on the couch telling Crane everything about his and Talia's relationship. He elucidated their days in the Pit, admitting his ever-present anxiety that some toothless rapist would realize she was a girl and snatch her away. He described their daily dynamic, an almost psychic connection that no one around them understood. He even confessed the time he finger fucked a desperate and wild Talia on her father's bed while he was away on a business trip.

As any good listener would, Crane said little beyond a few pointed questions. He nodded a lot, scratched in his notebook, and cocked his head at all the appropriate moments. "It sounds like this relationship, while unusual, is very positive for both of you. Would you agree?"

"Oh yes."

"Do you feel that she is concerned about your needs as a partner?"

"Absolutely." What man wouldn't feel fulfilled by a woman who would help him build an army to rage at the oppressor, all while giving excellent blowjobs?

"And you hers? Do you feel you give her what she needs as well?"

"Of course! Well...." Bane trailed off. "Everything I am able to give."

"Is there something she wants that you aren't able to give? Marriage? A baby?"

"Nothing so banal. It's just...."

"Yes?"

"I think she wants me to kiss her."

"And why is this a problem? Can you not take the mask off?"

"No, I can take it off for a few minutes here and there."

"Then what is the problem?"

Bane rolled his eyes. "Doctor, if you know how I became this way, then you can imagine that it's not a pretty sight under this mask."

"Has she never seen it? You live together. And I thought she rescued you from the Pit before you had the mask."

"Yes." Bane confessed. "She has seen it."

"And yet she started a relationship with you anyway. So what's the problem?"

Bane twisted his hands. Truly the whole situation just filled him with dread. "I don't....I don't know."

Crane smiled, soft and gentle rather than maniacal. "And here we have real fear. Now don't protest! The most powerful man in the world can fall in love, and anyone can be afraid of rejection. I don't care who you are."

"I'm not-"

"Let me tell you what I think," Crane interrupted. "I think you're afraid that, despite having seen you unmasked, she'll find kissing you to be different than looking at you. Can you imagine what it would feel like to see disgust in her eyes? To be rejected by her? Isn't that thought worse than a lifetime stifled in pain in the mask?"

Bane gritted what remained of his teeth and nodded.

"You're afraid she'll be repulsed by you, that she'll not want to be with you anymore. This is a completely normal anxiety given your situation, but not something you should let dictate your actions. She knows what you look like. She knows who you are."

"But what if you're wrong?"

"I'm not. She's risked her life for you, along with the ire of her father. She has given herself to you body and soul, and asks for the same thing in return. You risk nothing by kissing her, but not kissing her threatens her happiness. Imagine how rejected SHE feels that you won't give her this simple intimacy?"

"Huh. I had not thought of it that way." And he really hadn't. Bane's head was spinning with the new perspective. How the fuck did he wind up telling a total stranger his personal life anyway? The man was damn good at what he did, despite being a terminal weirdo. 

Crane set down his pad of paper. "I believe our time is up. Do contemplate what we've discussed, Bane."

"Yes. I will. Thank you, Doctor," he added grudgingly.

"Now, did you still want to do business? I assure you my compound will have a profound effect on others, even if it doesn't work on you."

"How shall we arrange payment?"

"Not your concern. Payment is coming from the League of Shadows directly. How much do you want?"

Bane pulled himself up to his full monolithic grandeur, the top of his bald head almost hitting the ceiling fan.

"All of it."

 

The minutia of Bane's master plan came together even faster than it normally did, the League of Shadows an army of ants scurrying to save their queen. When he received word that the fear toxin had been delivered into the hands of his detonation experts, he sent out an order for all the men to assemble in the main room.

He then made sure to make them wait exactly twelve minutes before he and Barsad showed up. Letting them sit with their imaginations for just a short while, he found, made them far more susceptible to his electrifying speeches. Normally he liked to compose something vague in his head a few hours beforehand, but Bane was a man who could shock, startle, and stir on a verbal whim. Years of studying the works of the greatest orators and speechwriters in history had transformed him into an elocutionist most elegant, when those deaf fucks could actually make out what he was saying.

The hushed buzzing of whispered gossip ended the second Bane stepped into the room, microphone in hand.

"My brothers! It doesn't matter who we are, what matters is our plan. Our plan to tear down the symbols of oppression. To bring this corrupt city to its knees. Gotham has grown fat and weak under the weight of its own greed. WE are the matches that shall light the fires of justice! Equalize a society choking on its own falsehoods. We shall be the instrument of Gotham's liberation!"

A cheer went up from the men, drowning out the bold few who dared to whisper to their horrified neighbor things like "did he say constipation?" and "I didn't get the part about matches".

"We take Gotham from the corrupt! The rich! The lazy and ingenuine! The oppressors of generations who have kept the citizens down with myths of opportunity. We shall give it back to the people. Gotham is ours!"

"Tomorrow," Bane continued, "will be the first glorious day of many. You will be divided into groups and given your assignments by my top five lieutenants, who will expect the same devotion and clarity of purpose with which you have always gifted me."

A small, shaky man timidly raised his hand in the front row. "Sir...I....what was that? You want us to give devotion and what?"

"Clarity of purpose!" Bane raged. _Goddammit_ He swore that ever since they'd settled in Gotham, his own men were just getting dumber. He made a mental note to have Barsad assign that man to be the person closest to the fear toxin bomb when it went off.

"Sir," one of Ra’s al Ghul's soldiers chimed in. "Is this everyone?"

"Yes, we are an elite force. This is everyone." 

There were about forty people in all, including al Ghul's idiot men. They were dressed in black cloth like ninjas, which would be about as helpful as an amputated horse in a race if they were shot by any actual projectiles. Most of Bane's men were dressed in full military gear, obviously having a hard time hiding their disdain for their underdressed counterparts.

"What about the Batman," someone else asked. Clearly another newcomer, as Bane's men knew that he didn't tend to hold question and answer sessions during meetings.

If it were possible to breathe fire out of the mask like a bald beefy dragon, Bane would have. "I will take care of the Batman. He is of no concern to you."

"Perhaps we could set up a distraction for him," the man with the death wish continued. "We could hold some children hostage or we could try to find and free the Jok-"

He didn't even get the word out before the rest of the soldiers, Bane's and Ra’s al Ghul's alike, were screaming at him to shut up. Over the years it had become something of a superstition among every criminal and shady operator in Gotham to never mention the masked clown. No one knew his location or if he was still alive, but his chaotic reign of terror still made people nervous. For those living in the margins, he was something of a godlike boogeyman, a being with power beyond that of normal men. Like the Scottish Play was to the stage, the purple clad clown was never truly mentioned by name within Gotham's criminal circles. To invoke him was to invite madness. 

"Let us begin," Bane tried to steer the energy back on track. "You will receive your tasks from your respective lieutenants now."

Just before he stepped away from the group, he heard one unfortunate man say a little too loudly, "I hope I'm in the rescue Ra’s al Ghul's foxy daughter group."

The rest of the men fell silent and looked at him aghast, slowly moving away as though he had airborne herpes. Bane and Talia's relationship was something of a mystery among people, with only a select few having the knowledge that they were together. Still, the fact that they were close should have been apparent to anyone.

"Excuse me?" Bane said.

"No offense to our bold sister, sir. I just heard that there would be a group assigned to free her from the police. I wouldn't mind being HER hero, if you know what I mean. She is pretty hot."

"Oh?" Bane crossed the distance between him and the man in one stride and punched him so hard that his legs flew completely out from under him and over his head. He landed flat on his face in a twitching pile of blood and frothy spit.

Bane spread his arms wide and looked at the crowd. "Does anyone else think that Talia is hot?"

A unanimous chorus of "no sir!" came from the men, who orderly stepped forward to receive their assignments.

 

After the speech, Bane walked through the winding maze of tunnels to a hidden room, where he was presented with their informant from the GCPD, a Mr. John Blake. 

He was tall, and younger than Bane had imagined. He projected a demeanor most serious, which was good. Bane preferred it when they were all business. 

"Hello, sir. John Blake." He extended his hand towards Bane's as though he were at a job interview. His hands were like ice. His grip firm.

"Mr. Blake," Bane said. "My associates have apprised you of our situation. Do you have something to report?"

"Yes, sir. My information comes from the latest reports from the Gotham Police Department, and I have some personal information as well."

"Oh? And what is that?"

"This is not police speculation, but a personal deduction. I heard the Batman interrupted your plans the other night. I have come to tell you that I think I know who he is."

"Who is he?" 

"Batman is billionaire playboy Bruce Wayne."

Bane said nothing in response, prompting Blake to hold up a hand and start explaining himself. "I know it sounds crazy but hear me out. He visited the foster home I was in as a child. Look at his face. It's not as vapid as he'd have you think. There's anger and darkness there. Not a lot of people know what it feels like to be angry, in your bones. I mean, they understand, foster parents, everybody understands, for a while. Then they want the angry little kid to do something he knows he can't do, move on. So after awhile they stop understanding. They send the angry kid to a boys home."

"You know this from one look at him in a foster home?"

Blake stared at him with a resolve so intense that he emanated utter confidence. "Yes. Yes I did. I figured it out too late. You gotta learn to hide the anger, practice smiling in the mirror. It's like......putting on a mask."

Bane made it a personal rule to rarely try to connect with or feel any real emotion for those in his employ. It was like naming the animal you were raising for dinner, it would only result in disappointment in the end. Yet he found himself starting to like this man. He seemed insightful and gutsy, and filled with the same roiling fury that had churned in the pit of Bane's stomach since the day he had put on the mask.

"I see. And does that mean there are hundreds of other orphans in Gotham who know the identity of Batman? That every angry, abandoned child under the age of ten can see through him?"

"I....I'm not sure, sir. Is that a joke? Truly.....I think I'm angrier than most." His lips quirked into a short, humorless smirk. Bane liked him even more.

He didn't let on that he agreed with Blake's suspicions. Instead he just replied, "I never jest." Which was true, with the exception of the time he had found one of al Ghul's "Henri Ducard" ties and had put it on to do a devastatingly accurate and insulting impression of her father for Talia. She had laughed. Actually giggled while she begged him to stop being so mean. He had then used the tie to rope her to his headboard and proceeded to make her stop laughing, but continue begging. 

He wanted her back so badly his whole being ached. Fuck.

"I shall take this information under advisement. Now, what do you know from the police? What do you know of Talia?"

"I know her location. She's in Blackgate Prison."

"She is there still?"

"Yes."

"Excellent. In a few short hours, the fires will rise. And we will assure her liberation. You-" he pointed to Blake. "You're on my team. I want you with me."

"There's...there's one more thing, sir." Blake displayed the first signs of bad news, shifting awkwardly from one foot to the other.

"And what is that?"

"You should know, about Blackgate. Because of the Dent Act, it's a tough place. Overrun with all sorts of criminals. And male and female prisoners......well....."

Cold tendrils of terror reached into Bane's heart and threatened to make him lose his composure. "What about them?"

"They're housed together, sir. Both men and women."

It took every last ounce of his long-practiced restraint to keep his cool. He wanted to rage, or take off the mask and throw up. Male and female prisoners together? Under no wild circumstance in any society could that be acceptable. A disgustingly dangerous idea that he would have only expected in the most misogynistic of backwater societies, or Gotham City.

His only reaction was to point at Blake again. "You're with me. Three hours. Barsad will outfit you with a mask and a weapon. Be ready."

Bane then stormed out to digest the disturbing news in private, the taste of sickening bile rising in his mouth permeating his normally numb taste buds. Talia housed in a prison with violent criminals. Back in the Pit. Again.

Only this time in a woman's body. And this time, she didn't have Bane around to protect her.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bane races to free his love Talia after a bank robbery gone bad leads to her arrest. Making matters worse is her distant father Ra's al Ghul, the general incompetence of his henchmen, that emo nuisance Batman, and the fact that no one can understand what he's saying.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally posted on LJ in November, 2012.

 

The bomb went off at exactly 12:59 pm on the next day. By 1 pm, downtown Gotham City had exploded into chaos. Thousands of protesters and citizens erupted into a terrified frenzy, the air thick with fear toxin from the detonated bomb.

Those who ran to help were sucked into the maelstrom of horror. People clawed at their own eyes to stop the frightening images. Cops sat mewling on street corners, too afraid to even begin to think about trying to restore order. The sounds of traffic and daily business were replaced with wails of panic.

Across town, Bane really didn't give a fuck. His whole world had narrowed down to this. This rescue mission. Nothing else mattered. Not the lives of his men, not even his own life.

He raced towards Blackgate prison in Ra's al Ghul's sports car, now rife with dents and scratches from Bane's purposely irresponsible driving. The car was no doubt reported stolen by Henri Ducard in order to keep up appearances, not that there was a cop in the city who could do something about it right now.

Barsad sat to his right; John Blake was squeezed in the back. They led a small convoy of trucks consisting of the rescue team, made up of the least incompetent men that Bane could find.

They tore through the outer entrance, easily killing the guards with their superior firepower. Just as they approached the main entrance of the prison Barsad screamed, "Sir! Incoming!"

Bane spun the car around as some sort of projectile struck the front, tearing off the grill and leaving black scorch marks on the pristine red hood. Ra's al Ghul would not be pleased.

Bane stopped the car and stepped out, fury replaced by confusion as he took in the cloaked figure sitting on a tricked out motorbike before him. The Batman.

"I broke you. How have you come back?"

Batman rumbled something that sounded like "actually, you just threw my back out", but Bane couldn't be sure. And people said _he_ was hard to understand.

"Let's not stand on ceremony here, Mr. Wayne."

And there it was. The reveal. The stunned shock apparent behind a practiced, stony veneer. Batman was Bruce Wayne. He should have bet Talia money on it. Or sexual favors.

Bane used Batman's surprise as an opportunity to lunge at him, punching him in the face repeatedly. They grappled, punched, and kicked each other like savages, both driven to protect something they loved. The men merely looked on, letting Bane have his revenge while enjoying the show. Watching Bane kick ass was a perk of the job, as long as it wasn't your ass getting the kicking.

Although he could have pounded on the misguided costumed hero all day, he was a man on a schedule. He was also a man who had spent the entire night watching every available piece of footage of Batman, including the tapes of the GCPD's interrogation room eight years previously.

So rather than continue the fight, Bane caught Batman in a headlock, pressed his mask to the Caped Crusader's, and whispered a few choice sentences into his year.

The fighting stopped as Batman freed himself and stepped back with wide eyes.

"You monster. You wouldn't."

"Oh but I would, Bruce! And I have! I have both the means and the desire."

"You're lying."

"Is that a risk you're willing to take?"

Batman stared. An interminable silence stretched between them. The men look at each other, puzzled. Even Barsad seemed confused.

Finally Batman jumped on his Batcycle and tore around the side of the prison, leaving Bane standing triumphant in front of his befuddled men.

"Come. Let us continue."

They entered the prison and killed the last few guards trying to make a desperate last stand in the front hallway of the prison. Nothing could stop them now. The electricity was out, both Gotham's main grid and the prison's backup generators blown by planted bombs.

The team snaked their way through hallways and corridors, any gates or locked doors taken care of with Barsad's bag of plastic explosives. Bane motioned his men to hurry when they reached the entrance to the giant, multi-level room that housed the cells.

"Quickly! Before he comes back."

"Sir," Barsad said. "What....what did you say to him that made him run away like that?"

"I told him that we were just a distraction, and that there was another team in the solitary wing whose mission was to free the Joker."

"The...the..." Barsad couldn't even spit out the name. "The clown is being kept here!?!"

"Who knows! He disappeared eight years ago after he was arrested. No one knows where he really is, apparently not even Batman."   
"And he believed you!?!"

"He had no choice. I am the lesser of two evils. Besides, have you _seen_ those interrogation tapes? Lots of weird tension. There was definitely something else going on there."

"Meaning?"

"Meaning I was wondering what would break first, his spirit or his heterosexuality!"

They stepped back as Bane detonated an explosive, ripping the enforced door apart and opening a hole to the main prison cells.

 

 

 

 

The cells in Blackgate Prison existed on two floors, stretching down an endless hallway that was now in a state of utter bedlam. The locks on the cells were electric, and although they were designed to stick in the locked position in case of a power failure, without guards to stop them some of the stronger prisoners were able to break free.

Dead bodies already littered the floor as prisoners struggled to escape. Bane and his team were greeted by a cacophony of screams and cheers as others threw themselves at the bars of their cells. There were pieces of pillow stuffing floating everywhere.

Bane raised a closed fist against the first man who approached him, crushing his nose with one blow. He turned to Blake.

"Where is she?"

"Second level! Number 34!"

Their team formed a tight unit, easily dispatching the few men stupid enough to run at them. They climbed the stairs to the second level and Bane started running. Number 65.....64....63....

Bane ran faster, hammering people out of his way. She needed him. She needed her protector.

51....50.....The only sound his labored, machine-like breathing. If something happened to her, he would never forgive himself. He didn't even think he could go on.

37...36...35..... _Oh God....._

In front of the broken gates to cell 34 lay a slender figure face down in a pool of blood, long dark hair spilling over the orange jumpsuit. _No no no_

Bane collapsed to his knees, cradling the person in his arms. It was a woman, the bones of her beautiful face broken and swollen. She wasn't breathing.

Talia. His Talia. Bane clutched at her and howled with grief. It was too late. Strangled wails crawled out of his dry throat. Too late....

"Bane! Bane!" Barsad was shaking him. "Bane, it's not her."

"W-what?"

"It's not her, boss!"

Bane pulled away from the dead woman and inspected her again. Her hair was too long, her face wasn't right. Fuck.

He tossed her aside and ran to cell 34. The gate was barely pried open. Bane forced it open further just in time to see Talia slit the throat of a man three times her size. There were two more bodies by her feet.

Her eyes widened when she saw him.

"Bane!" Talia screamed and leapt into his arms. "I knew. I knew you'd come for me."

And there in a dingy blood and cum splattered prison cell, without giving it another thought, Bane whipped the mask off and pressed his ruined lips to hers. The first real kiss of his adult life that he could remember.

It was clumsy, half-numb, and awkward. Talia's breath was terrible, like prison food and adrenaline. It was the sweetest thing he had ever tasted.

It felt like only moments before the first twinges of pain traveled across his jaw, forcing him to step back and strap the mask on again. Talia helped him, a rare beautiful smile shining through her tears. She kissed his exposed cheek.

"What took you so long?"

"Traffic. Batman. Your father. I came as soon as I could, my love. I thought I was rescuing you, although it does not look like you needed it!"

One of the men on the floor breathed his last death rattle, drooling blood on himself as his life finally expired.

"Oh Bane, my dearest friend." Talia took his hand. "I'll always need you. Always."

He scooped her into a fierce hug and spun her around, ignoring the stunned looks of the men behind him. Whether it was from seeing him with his mask off or seeing the bloody scene that Talia had created, he really didn't care. He didn't even care when he saw Barsad elbow one of the other men and whisper.

"See? I told you he wasn't in the friend zone."

Talia was clutching on to him like a life jacket. "Can we go now?"

"Yes, my dear. Let us depart. I believe we've overstayed our welcome in Gotham City!"

The group ran for the exit and back to the cars, indiscriminately killing anyone who got in their way. Talia stuck to Bane like she was eight years old again, and he didn't mind in the slightest.

 

 

The convoy split up after leaving the prison, with al Ghul's men going in one direction and Bane, Barsad, Talia, and John Blake blazing across the city for the highway in the battered sports car.

"Glad to have you back, ma'am." Barsad put a friendly hand on Talia's shoulder, which she covered with her own. He was always her favorite of Bane's men too.

Bane didn't mind. Strong relations between upper management were good, and he was still convinced Barsad was way gay anyway. He was more interested in the other silent man in the back. Bane tossed him a wad of bills.

"As promised, John Blake. Thank you for your service to the cause."

"Thank you, sir."

"The cameras at Blackgate were out. Your cover was not blown. Will you be returning to the police?"

"I don't think so, sir. A little too much structure for me."

"Well," Bane said. "How would you like a job? I have a lieutenant's position open, under Barsad of course."

"I....yes....yes I would like that very much. Could we just....make one quick stop before we go? Our Lady of Mercy, it's on 64 Elliott Street just around the corner. I need to drop off this money."

Bane indulged him, too happy to have Talia back to say no to anything.

"I recognize this place," said Talia when they stopped. "This is an orphanage."

"I grew up here. This will only take a minute."

"Aha," Bane said. "Giving your payment to an orphanage? A regular Robin Hood!"

While they waited, Talia seemed to notice the damage to the car for the first time. In addition to the many scratches, it was now starting to make a strange clunking noise.

"Bane, what did you do to my father's car?"

"Well, um, my dear. There were some....complications. You see, a car such as this is actually not made to--"

"It was Batman." Barsad interrupted.

Bane looked at him in the mirror gratefully. "Yes, yes it was Batman. Something.....like that."

Blake jumped back in the car. "Done! Thank you. I'm ready."

Talia raised her eyebrows. "Batman. I see. Well, father will be able to buy another one anyway. With this."

She reached into her bra and, much the complete surprise of the men in the car, produced the largest and most extravagant diamond any of them had ever seen.

Astonished, Bane took the stone and turned it in his hands, watching it throw rainbows on every surface around them. "The Gotham Diamond. But how? I thought you said it wasn't there?"

"It wasn't. Someone else had gotten there first. A master cat burglar. Batman must have gotten her right after I was arrested. I'm not sure how she hid it from the cops but it was on her when they put her in Blackgate with me. I stole it off her right before those men broke into our cell and...."

The dead woman in front of her cell. Bane closed the diamond back in her hand. Talia was cold, cruel, but not without a sense of justice. Watching those men kill another woman must have been horrible.

"It's over now."

A police car raced past them. Gotham struggling to get control of itself again.

"I believe that's our cue. Let's go. We can get your father another insecure man car somewhere else. Perhaps he won't even know the difference!"

Talia was still holding his hand. "I don't know if we can fool him that much, Bane. This is custom made. What if we can't find the same color?"

"Then we'll adapt, my love." Bane cupped her cheek in his hand. "We'll adapt."

He threw the car into gear and took off, making sure to hit every pothole along the way.

 

The End


End file.
